


A Ride in the Park

by Bobcatmoran



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Bicycles, Gen, velocipedes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-12-11 07:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11709372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bobcatmoran/pseuds/Bobcatmoran
Summary: Featuring Combeferre, Feuilly, a peanut gallery of small children, and a velocipede.





	A Ride in the Park

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the 2014 Merry Misfest, as a gift for [Darthfar.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthfar)

It was a fine spring Sunday, one of the first warm, sunny days of the year, and far too nice to spend indoors. So Feuilly grabbed a book off of his “to-read” pile — a copy of  _The Iliad_  that had been leant to him by Jean Prouvaire — and headed towards the Jardin du Luxembourg with an eye towards perhaps being able to run into one of Les Amis later on.

Feuilly was starting to wonder just how long Homer was planning to go on listing ships and their ports of origin when a loud chatter of children’s voices, spiced with disapproving tuts from the bourgeoise, made him look up.

A gaggle of boys and girls were trotting after a figure on a peculiar device, balanced on two wheels, with the rider straddling it and propelling himself with long strides. Upon closer examination, the rider was none other than Combeferre. They were making a circuit around the park, and as their path took them closer, Feuilly could hear individual comments and also recognize a few of them as gamins whom he knew. There was also one girl who stuck out from the crowd, with hair in blonde ringlets and dressed in a neatly-pressed blue frock. Feuilly suspected her of escaping from a governess he’d seen earlier, struggling with a tiny child in a matching blue dress.

“Here now!” called one of the gamins. Feuilly recognized him as Gavroche’s friend Navet. “Don’t hog it all to yourself.”

Combeferre slowed and looked back at him. “What on earth are you talking about? It is  _my_  velocipede.”

“But you said it’s a people’s machine, right? So why don’t you let the people have a go?”

“I don’t know that your legs are long enough,” Combeferre warned, dismounting. Sure enough, the seat fell somewhere around chest-height for Navet.

Feuilly gave up on his book at this point, deciding that this would provide a better opportunity for education, or at least entertainment.

As Combeferre pointed out the parts of his velocipede to his young audience (“Velocipede, from the Latin  _velox_ , “swift,” and  _ped_ , “foot”), Feuilly spoke up. “Combeferre, I would not have figured you, of all people, to have such a vehicle.”

Combeferre opened his mouth to reply, but Navet beat him to it. “Why not? He’s the one that’s always got the fancy scientific stuff. Him and the nervous one with the cane and the nice hair. And this thing is full of science.”

“Full of science?” echoed the blonde girl, doubtfully.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s got all of this — this stuff, all complex. Science,” Navet said, nodding sagely.

“I think it looks like someone started building a carriage and then forgot how to do it properly halfway through and gave up,” the girl said.

“It’s little more than a dandy-mobile,” Feuilly said disparagingly. “I got run over by one of them once when I was a child. The rider was more concerned for the state of his vehicle than the fact that he’d injured my left wrist so badly I couldn’t bear to use that hand for weeks afterwards.”

Combeferre looked shocked at this news, and darted a glance at Feuilly’s left wrist.

“Well, it’s not injured  _now_ ,” Feuilly said, rolling his eyes. “That was near a decade ago, when you saw these things on the streets commonly. But Combeferre, how on earth did you end up with one?”

"I saw it in a shop a couple weeks ago while I was buying some new glassware,” Combeferre said, “and the owner was so glad to be rid of it that he was willing to add it to my purchases for only ten sous more.”

“But  _why_?” Feuilly asked. 

"Well, as you pointed out, they are no longer stylish, so one can get one quite cheaply.”

“No, not why only ten sous, I meant,” Feuilly said, then frowned, trying to figure out how to phrase his thoughts. “I meant, I would never have figured you to make such a frivolous purchase.”

“It’s not frivolous, it’s science,” Navet said. “Like those hot air bags.”

“Hot air balloons,” Combeferre corrected. “And it really is a marvelously efficient manner of transportation. I can go the length of two strides with just one, and on downhill stretches I can even lift my feet and glide along effortlessly, propelled by gravity.”

“You don’t fall over?” Feuilly asked. “I’d think two wheels would be inherently unstable. You don’t sit on a two-legged stool, after all.”

“No, no, it’s rather enjoyable, actually. I only wish I knew why it can balance like that. Perhaps the forward motion provides some extra element of stability.”

“And what about going up hills?”

“Well, that, I will admit, is a bit more effort, but so it is to move anything uphill.”

“Can I give it a try?” Navet asked again.

Combeferre looked at his small stature. “Well, I can try adjusting the saddle as low as it will go, but I still don’t know that you’ll be able to reach the ground on it.”

“What if a lady wanted to ride it?” the blonde girl asked.

“You’re definitely too short,” Navet told her.

“Not me, you stupid. A grown-up lady. Because my mommy says that ladies can’t ride a horse astride because then they can’t have babies, but if you try to ride your belossipeet sidesaddle, it won’t work right.”

“I hadn’t considered that,” Combeferre said, looking thoughtful. “But there are costumes designed to allow a woman to ride astride, although they aren’t common. And perhaps if such a method of transportation became common, it could lead to new styles of dress. Split skirts, perhaps, or maybe shorter ones with some sort of feminine trousers underneath to preserve the rider’s modesty.”

“Became common?” Feuilly asked, “You said so yourself, these vehicles have become  _less_  common with time.”

"Only because they became associated with rich young men like the one who ran you over,” Combeferre said. “And thus they were also seen as a fad, something to be discarded as quickly as last season’s cravat style. But just think of the possibilities! Such a vehicle enables a man to go farther and faster with less effort than his own two legs alone. And unlike a horse, it requires no feeding, no watering, and no more of a stable than a wall to lean it against. So it’s terrifically economical. Here, hold this.” He handed Feuilly two nuts from the saddle. “While keeping a horse is beyond the means of most of the population, keeping a velocipede may well be within reach of the masses.”

“The keeping of one may well be affordable, but what about buying one?” Feuilly asked. “I know you paid only ten sous for yours, but that is because it was taking up space that the shopkeeper wanted for merchandise that would make him more profit. How many francs were they when they were popular? I’m willing to bet it was far more than many men would make in a year.”

“Mm, that could be because they were, for the most part, individually crafted. Pardon me,” he asked some of the children. “Would you mind holding the velocipede steady while I adjust the saddle? Thank you.” He started to re-screw the nuts onto the bolts that held the saddle in place. “But if they were manufactured in large quantity, with parts made en masse and then assembled —”

“You mean like how cheap fans these days are made with one group making the sticks, one creating the illustrations, one painting them, and so forth?” Feuilly asked.

“Yes! A velocipede is such that it doesn’t have to be custom-built to order. It only needs the ability to make simple adjustments such as the saddle here, to accommodate different body types. Manufacturing in such a manner would make them much less expensive.”

“Hm.” Feuilly said. “So that’s why you said it was a ‘people’s machine.’”

“Not yet, perhaps, but I think society would be the better for it if it were so. Navet, do you want to try mounting it now?” Combeferre asked, brushing off his hands and standing up from where he had been fiddling with the saddle.

Navet grinned, and vaulted himself onto the saddle, where he sat, legs dangling more than a handswidth from the ground. He kicked them futilely, then made some very creative and unlikely comments about the velocipede’s parentage before sliding off with a loud “Ugggghhh.”

“Did you want to try riding it, Feuilly, so long as I have the saddle lowered?” Combeferre asked. “I think you’ll actually be the right height for it.”

“Me?” Feuilly asked, startled at the suggestion. 

“Yes, you,” Combeferre said, smiling. “Here, I can hold your book.”

Feuilly handed it over and uneasily perched on the saddle. 

“You lean up against this support here to help you balance and push off from the ground, and you use the handles here like a tiller to steer,” Combeferre instructed him. “See how the front wheel turns back and forth with them? The rest is as easy as walking.”

“You’re sure I won’t fall over?” Feuilly asked.

“You saw me ride it without falling,” Combeferre pointed out. “If you can securely touch the ground with both your feet, you should be able to catch yourself. And for some reason, the faster you go, the less wobbly it is.”

“It’s wobbly?” Feuilly asked, alarmed. 

“You’ll be fine, and I’ll be right here if anything happens,” Combeferre said. “On-site medical assistance, you can’t ask for better than that. Will you be all right if I let go?”

“I…I suppose so,” Feuilly said. 

“All right then, go ahead,” Combeferre said, then stepped back. 

Feuilly rocked back and forth a few times on his feet, wheeling the velocipede slightly forward and back. Then he took a few cautious steps. He indeed wobbled a bit dangerously for his first circuit, down the length of the park and back, and was about to dismount and hand the vehicle back to Combeferre, when he was urged by the young crowd of onlookers to try it again. 

This time, he was a bit smoother, and in a fit of bravery towards the end, he decided to try building up enough speed to lift up his feet for a little bit. As soon as both his feet left the ground, though, the front wheel turned one way, the rest of the velocipede went the other, and the whole contraption, along with Feuilly, crashed to the pavement with a loud clatter.

Combeferre let out a string of oaths, much to the shocked delight of the blonde girl, who really was learning a lot of exciting new words that day. He ran over to Feuilly, who was already standing back up and setting the velocipede to rights on its wheels.

“Are you all right?” Combeferre asked. “Any injuries? Oh, your knee,” he said with dismay, noticing where the fabric of Feuilly’s trousers had been torn.

“It’s just a small scrape, I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re certain,” Combeferre said. “You had best wash it out carefully, though, to guard against infection by making sure no dirt or anything else remains in the wound.”

“I will, don’t fret about it.”

“So, other than the crash, what did you think?” Combeferre asked.

“It’s certainly novel,” Feuilly said. “But I think I shall stick to walking all the same, thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to my little brother, who does in fact make extensive use of his “people’s machine,” for beta reading and especially for helping me with the ending.
> 
> Poor Feuilly is stuck at the infamous [Catalogue of Ships](http://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Greek/Iliad2.htm#anchor_Toc239244713) in The Iliad. According to my high school English teacher, it was included mostly so whoever was listening to the tale could go, “Wow, hey, some of the guys fighting along these heroes are from my hometown! GO AGRISSA!!” However, for those of us who don’t live in Ancient Greece, it’s a bit of a trial to get through.
> 
> Velocipedes, also known as Drasines, were invented in 1817 by Karl von Drais, a German nobleman. They experienced a brief burst of popularity in the late 1810s–early 1820s before being dismissed as a dead end in the quest for human-powered propulsion. It would take another half century until the innovation of attaching pedals to the front wheel reignited interest in what became known as bicycles. It wasn’t until the innovation of a chain drive and inflatable rubber tires near the end of the 19th century that they truly became the practical vehicle we know today.
> 
> Today in the 21st century, a direct descendent of them is marketed as a [“balance bike” toy](http://www.skuut.com/default.aspx) that is “perfect for learning balance, steering, coordination and independence.” 
> 
> For a video of someone riding a reproduction, pre-pedal velocipede, you can watch [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eKGGOKnmGLk&feature=youtu.be)


End file.
